


I'll be your fan

by Yahong



Category: VIXX
Genre: F/M, Fandom, slightly-dumb jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yahong/pseuds/Yahong
Summary: Hongbin isn't sure if you like him as a fan, as a friend... or as more.
Relationships: Lee Hongbin/Reader
Kudos: 11





	I'll be your fan

“Why are we friends?” Hongbin asks you out of the blue one day.

You look up from your knitting. “What?”

He’s just finished an hour-long stream, and his apartment seems quiet now without the gratuitous blood spattering noises and groans of murdered undead from his gory game.

You sit up straighter from your lounging position on his bed and, carefully, repeat, “Why are we friends?” How on earth are you supposed to interpret this question?

“Mm.” He stares at his screen, absent-mindedly clicking through all the gifts he’s received during the stream. “I mean, any time we hang out, it’s basically just me streaming and you watching.”

“I don’t mind, though,” you say slowly, unsure as to how this relates to his question. “I know you’re busy. And you help me promote and sell the game character plushies that I knit, too.”

“So if I didn’t help you make money…” He trails off, which makes your back go up.

“I’m not only here because you help me make money,” you say, a little stiffer. “You know I was your fan before we met.”

“You were a fan of Vixx.” His gaze is still fixed on the screen.

“Yes, and now we’re friends because we met and decided that we like each other.” You say it as a statement, not the question it is in your mind, hoping he’ll agree, or at least not negate it.

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t like you the same way you like him, but you’re—or at least, you _were_ —also pretty sure you could call him your friend.

Why does it sound like he’s not so sure?

“But I mean, is this what friends do?” Hongbin finally turns from his desk to gesture between you and him; his brow is creased as he frowns at you. “Just meet up so one can watch the other play games?”

“Why not?”

He stares at you.

“Never mind.” He shakes his head and deliberately eases his frown. “I think I’m just tired from streaming. I’m going to get some water.”

Well, that’s a lie if you ever heard one; one hour of streaming is nothing to him. So you pick up your knitting needles and follow him out into his apartment and hover just outside the small kitchen.

You wait for him to finish gulping down an entire plastic water bottle before speaking. “Is there something going on, Hongbin-ah?”

He tosses out the bottle and flicks a short glance your way. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Then, if it’s nothing… why ask if we’re friends?”

You feel like you’re pushing the tentative limits the two of you have drawn, but he was the one who posed the question, and you need to know why.

Hongbin braces his hands against the counter, his gaze pointed downward. “I don’t know. When I finished the stream today, I looked over and saw you knitting, and I just thought, _I don’t know anything about knitting_. But that’s all we ever do—I stream, and you watch and knit.” He looks up. “We don’t even know that much about each other.”

“I think I know a bit about you.” Cautiously, you lower your voice to prevent it from quavering. “And I enjoy knitting and watching you stream. I could tell you about knitting if you wanted to know more about it.”

“But how does that make you different from a fan watching me at home, then?” Hongbin paces to the other side of the kitchen.

You take a steadying breath. “I mean, it’d be nice to do other things together. I was just trying to be mindful of your time, I know you’re busy as an idol—”

“I don’t need someone to be mindful of me,” he interrupts, speaking to the wall. “I need someone to be my friend, my actual friend.”

Oh, you’re so close to having your feelings hurt. “I’m trying to be, Hongbin-ah—”

He turns. “Isn’t that just because I’m Vixx’s Hongbin?”

Ugh.

“Look.” You take another breath. “If you want to believe that, then I don’t think I can change your mind.”

“You should try,” he insists. “Otherwise how can I know?”

“Me saying this right now, this is me trying,” you point out. “I’m telling you right now, I like you as a person, not as an idol. I want to be your friend. I… I want to be more than friends.”

It’s the calmest confession you’ve ever given, even as turmoil twists inside you.

For a moment Hongbin just blinks. Then he opens his mouth, and you brace yourself:

“You only want to because you’re my fan.”

Quietly, you reply, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“You can’t know for sure.”

All right. That’s it. That’s the extent of emotional labour you’re putting into this conversation. You’re not going to single-handedly break down the walls Hongbin’s built around himself or the labels he’s placed on you.

“Maybe you’re right about that.” You gather your knitting supplies and grab your backpack from the couch. “I guess the only way we’ll know is if we stop being friends, right?” You work up a thin smile and send it his way. “Then… goodbye.”

He doesn’t stop you as you walk out the door.

*

Making new friends is hard when you’re an adult. You sign up for a local knitting club, even though almost everyone there is older than you, and tell yourself you’re going to try it for at least four consecutive Saturdays.

On the third week, a younger member, Haeun, introduces you to an online creative arts platform that’s apparently popular for sharing fandom-related projects. There, you rehome the game character plushies that you’ve been unable to sell ever since you cut off contact with Hongbin.

At your fourth meeting, Haeun greets you excitedly outside the bookstore your club meets at.

“Y/N-unnie! You posted your game monster plushies online, right? You did, right?”

You’ve accepted that Haeun considers every single game character a ‘monster’, no matter how humanoid. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

She tugs you inside the bookstore and waves someone over. “This guy’s here to meet you!”

“Meet me?” You blink at the scruffy younger man who’s fixed his ardent gaze on you.

“Excuse me, did you make this?” He’s holding the completed Sonic plush that you’d added to your club’s little display in the bookstore’s bay window. “I was wondering if you would sell it to me. My girlfriend _loves_ Sonic and I know she’d die over this.”

“Oh.” Warmth spreads through you at his eagerness. “Ah, well, it actually took me a while to make that, so to be honest I’d only sell it for a high price…” Knitting, stuffing and sewing Sonic’s spikes had been a nightmarish experience, one you’re never going through again.

“Just name your price!” the guy declares.

Wow, okay. As you think, Haeun tugs you close. “Don’t charge him under a hundred dollars,” she hisses.

“Two hundred,” you blurt out.

Though the man’s eyes widen a bit, his hand goes to his pocket without hesitation. “Can I e-transfer you the money?” is all he says.

That’s the start of your realization that handmade game character plushies are, apparently, a unique and lucrative niche, one that Haeun helps you develop and build. With the knitting club manager’s support, you start selling your items in a small booth inside the bookstore for half an hour after every club meeting.

One Saturday is particularly busy. The bookstore’s running a promotion, which means there’s more traffic in the store and more people chancing by your small booth. Haeun’s delighting in managing the short queue that’s formed in front of you, occasionally bounding over to pass along some info.

“Unnie, that guy in the beanie says he’s been checking your site every day for that final monster in the SEGA set! Save it for him and charge him double, okay?”

“Oh my God, unnie, the cutest little girl was asking for a monster called Pikachu. Do you have a finished Pikachu to sell? I told her yes, I hope I didn’t lie.”

“Unnie! This really hot guy asked for you by name. By your actual name, not your online username!” This time she’s shaking you hard enough that you have to turn away from the customer in front of you, who for some reason just wants your ‘autograph’. “Look! Do you know him?”

You follow her pointing finger to see: Hongbin.

He’s standing a short distance away, squinting over in your direction like he’s not sure what he’s looking at. Just as you make eye contact, Haeun draws your attention back as she slides the paper out from under your hand.

“It’s five dollars for an autograph,” she sweetly informs the customer, and waits for him to fork over his money before letting you take the paper back. “Unnie, you should charge them for signatures, okay?” she whispers in her ear. “Fighting!”

Then she’s off to manage the crowd again, your own personal PR professional. What a gem.

After that, you explain to two more customers that you’ve sold your Wrecking Ball plushie already and no, you don’t have multiple because it takes you at least a week to knit one up, which leads to a suggestion from one of the customers to do online auctions instead of selling first-come, first-serve.

You have to chuckle a little at the idea. “I don’t think there’s enough interest to do an online auction.”

“No, you’ve got tons of fans,” the guy says earnestly.

The other girl nods. “My boyfriend actually brags to his friends about the fact that he bought your first and only Sonic plush.”

“Really?” You can’t stop your smile from spreading. “I’ll think about it then. Thank you for your interest.”

The guy hesitates for a second. Then he blurts, “Can I have a high-five?”

Boggled, you say, “Sure,” and hold out your palm.

He beams, taps his hand to yours, then bows profusely before departing.

You watch him go in bemusement. Is this what an idol hi-touch is like?

Speaking of idols:

The next customer is Hongbin.

You look up at him and manage, “Hello.”

“Hello.” He looks back for a few moments before letting his eyes drop to your table. “It’s… it’s been a while.”

“Yes. It has.” You’ve always been short next to him, but having him tower over you while you remain seated makes you feel extra tiny. For half a second you want to ask him to kneel down like he’s at a fan-meeting.

“…I’ve seen your knitting around online. Looks like you’re doing well.”

“Yes.” What does he want?

Hongbin’s quiet for a few more seconds, almost long enough for the customer behind him to get fidgety. Then he looks up into your eyes.

“I missed you, Y/N-ah,” he says.

And for the first time in over a month, you let yourself think it, let yourself say it: “…I missed you too.”

Just then, Haeun inserts herself in between Hongbin and the table. “Excuse me, sir, are you interested in buying anything?”

“Ah, he’s not a customer,” you say hastily.

“Oh, wait, it’s this guy! Do you know him, unnie? Is he a friend?” Haeun asks.

You open and close your mouth.

“I’m just a fan,” Hongbin says to her.

 _A fan_.

“Ahh.” She smiles at him. “If you’d just like Y/N’s autograph, that’ll be five dollars. But please don’t take too long, in consideration of other customers.”

“Yes,” Hongbin says politely as she takes off again.

 _A fan_ , you repeat in your mind.

“Y/N-ah.”

You look up to see his eyes fixed on you.

“Can we talk after you’re finished here?”

“…Yes.”

*

Outside, you weave your way through the crowded sidewalk toward Hongbin. He’s waiting at the nearby taxi stand, face mask pulled high and bangs hiding his eyes.

“Hi.” You stop a few steps away so you don’t have to crane your neck. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Um.” He goes to pull his face mask down, then glances around. “Maybe we should go somewhere quieter.”

“Your place?”

“No,” he says quickly. “I’d like to go to your place… if you don’t mind.”

Your brows rise. “Why? You’ve never been to my place.”

“I know,” he admits. “But—that’s why I want to go.”

Okay. You grab a taxi, and Hongbin slides into the backseat with you as you give the driver directions.

As the car pulls away, you feel Hongbin give you a side-glance.

“Er. _Will_ it be quieter at your place?”

“What do you mean?” You keep looking straight ahead.

“I mean…” He clears his throat lightly. “Will there be anyone else home?”

“Oh. No, I live alone.”

“Ah.” He relaxes into the seat, and the rest of the ride is silent.

Once you’re in your apartment, you lead him into your small kitchen. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

His throat works for a moment before he speaks. “I thought a lot about our last conversation.”

You stay silent.

“And… I’m sorry. I was wrong.” Hongbin steps forward suddenly, making you back up a little too hastily. “I didn’t listen to you, and I was wrong.”

You regain your distance before looking up at him again. “That’s okay. Thank you for saying that.”

“I do want to be your friend, Y/N-ah.”

“I’m glad, Hongbin-ah.” You nod.

“But—” He catches hold of your hand, a very light grip that you could break if you wanted. “Do you…” He swallows. “Do you still want to be more?”

Your heartrate rises. “More?”

“More than friends.”

Slowly, you pull your hand free. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I _do_.”

And all of a sudden he’s stepped into your space and your back is against the counter, his arms enclosing you. You look up, up, and he looks right back at you, eyes calling to yours.

“Y/N-ah, I do. I want you,” he says, and there’s almost some kind of pleading edge to his voice, some earnest, yearning note that tugs right at your heartstrings. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” you ask softly. “Are you sure, Hongbin-ah?”

“ _Please_ ,” he repeats.

So you stretch up, up, up, and kiss him.

He meets you more than halfway, closing the substantial height difference swiftly to touch his lips to yours. When you try to push for more, he draws back.

“Is that a yes?” he checks.

This guy, seriously. “Yes, Hongbin-ah, that’s a yes.”

A wide smile lights up his face, so dazzling you have to blink moisture out of your eyes. “Y/N-ah…”

You lift your arms and tug on his shoulders. “Come back, I can’t reach you up there.”

He chuckles, the sound pure delight, and then grips you by the waist to hoist you onto the counter. Locking his arms around your lower back, he tugs you to the edge and steps between your spread legs to continue kissing you.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. Your eyelids flutter open to see him only a few inches away, looking at you with something close to adoration. “At first I didn’t even know if it was because I liked you or because I was overthinking it.” He keeps kissing you leisurely in between his murmurs. “And that kind of scared me.”

“Mm.” You want to respond to his sincere words, his apology via confession, but the way he’s surrounding you so closely, closer than you’ve ever felt to him, is making your mind whirl. 

“But when I saw your knitting online…” He pulls back, tongue flicking out as he eyes your mouth. “And all the views and comments you were getting…”

You hesitate. “So you’re just jealous?”

“No! No. I thought, _These people know more about Y/N than I do_. And I realized it was my fault.” He brushes his mouth one more time against yours, an affectionate caress, then continues down your jaw. “If I hadn’t pushed you away, you wouldn’t be selling online…” Down your neck, his lips pulling and sucking. “You wouldn’t have all these fans after you…”

It’s getting hard to form coherent thoughts with the way he’s tucked his face into your neck, but you try. “You—ah… don’t you want me to be successful?”

He presses his nose into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and inhales deeply. “I do. But… you’re not an idol.”

“Mm. So?”

“So, you don’t need teenage gamer boys following you around online.” Hongbin lifts his head to make eye contact again. “Do you?”

Clearly, the only correct answer is: “No… but I’m just selling my knits, Hongbin-ah, it’s not like I’m streaming with a face cam or anything.”

“Y/N-ah, I was a teenage gamer boy once. I know how they think.” He leans in to nip at your lips. “Do you think that guy today wanted a high-five because he likes your knitting so much?”

“Ye-es?”

“Wrong.”

“Okay, but…” You wriggle backward a little to get some space and make your point. “No harm, no foul, right? It’s fine if people like me, as long as they don’t actually do anything weird.”

“ _I_ like you.” He pulls you in again, negating the space between you, and spreads his hands wide over your lower back.

“I mean my customers—”

“I’ll be your fan.”

“I thought I was _your_ fan.”

“No,” Hongbin says. “Now you’re just mine.” And he kisses you once more.


End file.
